On the Perils of Being Useful
by nienorbun
Summary: What would it really take to survive as a mortal in a reality full of Gods and magic? A story which draws on the movies, traditional mythology, and a twist of Andre Norton style sci-fi.
1. Chapter 1

Just a little fantasy that's been bouncing around my head. I'm not a serious writer, but I welcome any comments or criticisms. In fact, I hate to beg for reviews, but it would be fantastic if someone could tell me what they think about this.

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It was the wind which brought me back to consciousness; howling and pulling at me as I fell. I opened my eyes to stare up into roiling dark grey clouds. The stinging wind drew beaded tears mixing with the flying rain, and my hair whipped my face painfully like straw. The sensation of falling was overpowering now, and I tried unsuccessfully to turn my head so that I could see the ground. The wind dragged me back to facing upwards, roaring in my ears. I struggled futilely and then stopped, realising that seeing the upcoming ground wasn't going to help. The urge to flail around in panic surged through me, but I forced myself to stop and think, staring up at the menacingly churning sky.

Where had I been before here? How had I ended up here? I asked the questions in my head, but the answers were slow in coming. I had a vivid impression of car tyres filling my view, the screeching of a car braking, a crunch of intense pain. Then this, falling. Dimly I realised I'd been falling for what seemed like a long time. And in the moment I thought this, the tug of the wind stopped, and I felt an agony which tipped me into blackness.

An explosion of pain shattered the darkness, and I screamed, thinking I was still experiencing the impact of my fall. Instantly I felt my body drop and connected the agony with a sensation of being dragged. I had been afraid to open my eyes in case I was blind, but now they flew open. I was lying on bumpy cold ground on my back, and the same clouds lowered over me, although much higher than before. Rain lashed my face, making it impossible to see clearly. A shadow crossed my vision and I felt hands fumbling under my knees and back.

"No!" I tried to shout, but the sound died in my throat as I felt myself lifted and agony sent me back to oblivion.

A hard edge clinked against my teeth, and warm liquid slopped against my mouth. I coughed as some of it went down. Milk? But very sweet. I ran my tongue over my lips, feeling clumsy and confused. Blinking, I tried to see where I was, but I saw only a dark corner of ceiling with a glow of warm light at one edge. As alertness returned more fully, I became aware that there was someone leaning over me, one hand resting on my shoulder as the other tried to urge more of the sweetened milk into my mouth. I attempted to turn my head to see them, and the surge of agony which ran down my spine made me choke on a shriek, milk spilling from my lips. Tears blinded me, and I had only the faintest image of a blurred pale face surrounded by dark hair, before the darkness closed in again.

"Stupid fool." My last recollection was the sneer of that voice, male and soft, but not with kindness.

I dreamed, nightmares of walking through my ordinary life while under the most crushing shards of pain. Time and time again I returned to my last ordinary memory; walking across the crosswalk of the busy street near my apartment, hearing the blaring horns, seeing the tyres looming until they filled the world. Only these times I walked haltingly, every step a flare of misery. _Stupid fool, stupid fool_, whispered a man's voice in my head. I shook my head in the dream, and suddenly I was walking through molasses, the daylight world splintering into shards that floated away into darkness. Then the darkness itself splintered into red light, and I felt the sensation of my eyeballs pressing against my lids. Lids which seemed as heavy as lead as I lifted them, to see that same dark ceiling with the warm spill of light in one corner.

I exhaled, feeling as if I had climbed out of a dark pit. From somewhere in the room I heard movement, and made to turn my head towards it.

"Don't move!" barked the man's voice, light and hard, imperative with authority. I felt my body stiffen in automatic obedience, in spite of the burning desire to see the face of my unknown...rescuer? His voice had left me with a high degree of insecurity as to his motivations. I swivelled my eyes as far towards the direction of his voice as possible, and was rewarded by a looming shadow, shot with glints of gold and green. The shadowed figure moved forward to lean over me, and for the first time his face came into focus. I studied it as he studied me. He was pale faced and dark haired, with pale intense eyes and thin, finely moulded lips. In fact his whole face was finely sculpted; boyish with a pointy chin and high cheekbones, and he gave off that undefinable aura of wealth and high breeding.

My mental exploration of him was interrupted by his hands feeling under my back. The slightest touch rocked me with agony, and he quickly withdrew, glancing at my face.

"Your back is broken," he said, confirming my worst fears, "but you are healing faster than any I have seen before." He made a fast, snake-like movement and suddenly was gripping my chin in his hand, forcing me to look into his eyes. This close I could see a tiny flame dancing in the center of each. His touch was not gentle, and I would've pulled away if I hadn't feared instant unconsciousness.

"Speak!" he commanded. "Who are you? Who sent you?"

Opening my mouth was a huge effort, and when I tried to speak I found my tongue felt swollen, clogging my mouth. There seemed no air in my lungs, and all that came out was a soft murmur.

"Ro…" I whispered, and the cost of speaking brought black circles swimming in front of my eyes. I parted my lips to try and protest that noone had sent me, but the black circles danced larger, and I felt myself slipping back down into unconsciousness. Panic seized me, and I believe I would've tried to thrash aimlessly, but I felt his hands bearing down on my shoulders, pinning me. I tried to scream, but the slide into oblivion continued until nothing was left.

Time has no meaning to those asleep or unconscious, and when I woke again, I had no idea how long I had been asleep. A soft humming infringed on the corners of my mind, and as I blinked myself awake, scared to move a muscle, the humming became more defined. His humming. I wished that I could look round and at least see more of the room than the ceiling, nevermind my mysterious...well, I decided to stick with the term rescuer for now.

"Noone sent me." I whispered, my voice cracked with the effort of speaking, yet infinitesimally stronger than before.

The humming stopped, and I heard him moving towards me. I willed myself not to react physically. His shadow covered me and that pale haughty face hove into view, dark eyebrows frowning.

"What?" he asked, managing to make even that sound imperious.

I licked my dry lips and tried to speak again, but he had already backed out of my line of sight with a quick darting movement. I clenched my teeth to stop myself from trying to follow him with my head, but it was too late, my neck had already twisted involuntarily. Pain exploded in my back and I bit my tongue as my body spasmed, black dots floating before my eyes again. Don't faint, don't faint, I told myself, beads of pain sweat running down my face. As the dots cleared, I realised that now my neck was twisted, I could see a little more of my surroundings, although at a weird angle. A blank wall with a floating globe of golden light, and below that a pile of very old-looking hardcover books. I couldn't see the table beneath them. I could see his shadow moving on the wall, slim and elongated, wavering in the golden light. Suddenly he was back in my line of vision, holding a ceramic bowl in one hand. His frown deepened as he took in my changed position, and he put the bowl down on what must've been a table beside me, but out of my line of sight.

"This will hurt." He said, and then without further ado, put his hand under my head and twisted it back to its former position. The same explosion of agony spiralled through me, and I thought it inevitable that I would faint again. But although my vision swam and tears started in my eyes, I managed to focus on my breathing and stay conscious.

"Now drink, and we will begin again. Answer my questions." He smiled thinly and began to dribble that same sweetened milk through my parted lips. In spite of my weariness, the moisture made me realise how thirsty I was, and I swallowed eagerly. I wasn't ready to stop when he took the bowl away, but the haughty look was back, so I took a deep breath, and tried to speak.

"I'm Ro, noone sent me," I took another breath, feeling like a weight was on my chest, "I think I was hit by a car, please take me to a hospital." The effort of saying so much made my last words trail off, and his face kept blurring in and out of focus. Dimly I could see his wider smile, and hear him chuckle.

"What jest is this?" He stood up out of my line of sight; I rolled my eyes to try and see him and caught only a glimpse of his green and gold clothing as he paced back and forth. When he next spoke there was puzzlement mixed in with the scornful attitude.

"You are no mortal, yet you talk as one of them. There are no cars, nor hospitals on this world, for this cursed planet serves as the place of my banishment." He moved back into my range of vision, leaning close into my face so that his dark hair brushed my collarbone and I could see the dancing fire burning in his pupils. "And know this; Odin in his wisdom decreed that none should pass the barriers of this mudheap, save by his design. Thus, I doubt the sincerity of your bleating." His hands were on my shoulders, and he made to shake me, then stopped. Maybe he realised I would just pass out again.

In spite of the intense weariness and the incredible sharp ache in my back, my heart was beating wildly with the stress of the situation. This man seemed completely capable of hurting or killing me, and I was obviously not giving him the answers he wanted. I looked deep into the hypnotising fires of his eyes and cast my mind back desperately for some enlightening memory to fill the gap between the tyres and falling. Nothing came.

"Look," I stammered, "I was going to work, crossing the road. I remember tyres and pain and then falling in the sky. That's all. I don't even know who you are, or where this is." A hideous thought struck me, so awful that the black circles began to dance before my eyes, and I could feel myself hyperventilating. I could see he felt the change in me, because his hands were now pinning me more gently, and one eyebrow was raised questioningly.

"I think, I think," roaring panic began to overwhelm me, but my voice dropped to a whisper as I began to feel faint, "I think I…."


	2. Chapter 2

It was a different kind of pain which woke me this time; a niggling pricking sensation in the palm of my right hand. The darkness was already the red of inside my eyelids as soon as I was aware, and I was grateful that I no longer seemed to be struggling out of that dark pit from before. The pain in my back was still there, still sickening and fiery, but my attention was held by the persistent poking of something sharp, not deep, just enough to be painfully annoying.

I opened my eyes to see his face again, a small smirk on it as he looked down at my hand, out of my sight. I came to the realisation that he was gripping my wrist with one hand and pricking my palm over and over.

"Ungh! That hurts, stop." I whispered plaintively. I wanted to shout, but the intense weariness made it impossible to put any energy into my words.

"Ah, good, it worked." He laughed, a charming peal that nevertheless made me shiver with apprehension. It was starting to look like I'd been rescued by a psychopath. He opened his mouth to say something, but I interrupted hurriedly.

"Painkillers." I demanded. "I'll answer your questions if you give me painkillers." I cringed inwardly at the scowl which swept over his face.

"What do you think I've been doing, stupid female? That conjured milk is so strongly laced with poppy juice its a wonder you're awake at all." He jabbed the sharp point of something into my hand hard enough for me to gasp, then stomped away. In a moment he was back with the ceramic bowl, tipping the sweet milk between my lips with graceful loftiness.

As the liquid flowed into me, this time I could feel the difference in pain, and a certain accompanying dreaminess. I felt almost benevolent towards him.

"Who are you anyway?" I asked softly. "What's your name?"

"I am Loki, rightful King of the Nine Realms. Trapped here by the will of the All-Father. And if _I_ am unable to come and go at will, whose power gives _you_ that ability?"

Sinking dread filled me. It had been a long time since I'd seriously studied mythology, but the twisted Prince of Asgard had a long and infamous reputation in Viking saga. A cruel and subtle Trickster, betrayer of both his natural and adopted families, sire of a brood of monsters who were destined to consume the universe in the conflagration of Ragnarok. Common sense told me this was nonsense and this man must be delusional, but for the fact that I'd seen the fire in his eyes, and was still mentally processing the strange events leading to me being there.

I eyed him warily, and he returned a lop-sided mocking grin, raising his eyebrow.

"So you've heard of me then?" he laughed. "At least you don't deny that! Now, why did Odin send you here, and yet let you fall?" He persisted, fixing me with a gaze of such intensity that it seemed the tiny flames in his eyes would consume his pupils.

"You're just myths. You don't exist." As I said this a small voice in my mind whispered, _neither do you, remember the tyres_? I pushed the thought away frantically. "If your Odin sent me then he didn't let me know." My voice trailed off as the weariness of speaking overcame me.

Loki frowned and leaned back, pursing his lips. I could just see him out of the corner of my eye, chewing his lower lip distractedly.

"You'll have to do better than that." He said menacingly.

I wanted to scream that this was insane, he wasn't real, I was having drug dreams in some hospital, but I also felt constrained to answer him.

I gasped with the effort of speaking, "I'm telling the truth, I swear. I don't know how to convince you."

He frowned. "You're not mortal, nor any denizen of the Nine Realms I've seen before. I myself have travelled beyond those realms," he mused, "and the idea of multiples extending infinitely between dimensions is known to me," he gave a short sharp laugh, "but it is too much to ask that on any instance of Midgard there should be mortals such as you."

Whether from the drugged milk or my own pain and weariness, I was having trouble concentrating. "What do you mean?" I asked in bewilderment.

I felt him lay my right hand on the coverlet which must cover me, but he stayed just out of my limited range of vision. My only clue to his thoughts was his voice, sardonic and playful.

"I saw your injuries after you fell, and yet you lived. You have healed faster than an Aesir, and look to be whole from wounds which would maim a lesser god." here his laugh chimed out. "If that's not enough, there's this."

I heard a scuffling of movement from his direction and then a large oval hand mirror was thrust in front of my face. The flashing surface and glowing gold of its casing confused me for a second, and then I cried out at the image which greeted me. If this was a mirror, it was not showing my face!

A stranger greeted me, whiter than new snow, with a churning froth of long glowing strands for hair. The face was human in shape but very alien in a fennec-sharp way; all huge eyes in a small pointy face. Only those eyes were mine, that indeterminate colour which is grey, green or blue, depending on the light. I saw the orange fleck in the left iris which marked me as me. All else was gone. I tried to lift my hand to my face, and once again, agony fractured my consciousness into that dreaded darkness.

For the first time on waking I had a sense of time passing. I was aware of a silence around me. The more I came back to reality - _reality, what reality?_ my mind whispered sarcastically - the more I sensed an absence. I opened my eyes, staring at the now-hated ceiling.

"Hello?" I called, and found my voice stronger. Very very slowly, I turned my head to encompass the room. Pain flared, but less than before.

I was in a room almost large enough to be termed a hall, but which still retained an atmosphere of comfort and coziness, in part due to the unique lighting. Spheres of warm glowing light dotted the room at various heights, suspended in mid-air. There seemed no defined functions for areas of the room, just a pile of books and clothing on desks and chairs, mixed with golden plates and goblets with half-finished meals. Evidence of tantrums was there in overturned furniture and flung books, and there seemed some reason for such when I looked out of the large bay windows onto grey land and grey sky, the wind slamming rain against the glass. Overall the impression was of a princely but sad prison, a gilded cage for an errant god.

"Helloo?" I called louder, amazed at the new strength in my voice. Encouraged by that, I tried to prop myself on one elbow and sank down again, gritting my teeth at defeat. At least I could move a little now, a small victory in itself.

Scuffling outside it brought my attention to the solid wooden door, bound with dark metal. The sound of the howling wind increased ten-fold as the door opened and Loki came through it. He checked his movement for a second as he saw me looking at him, and then flashed me a dashing smile and continued over the threshold, slamming the door behind him.

"Awake again?" he said cheerily. His clothing and hair were bone dry in spite of being out in the storm. With cat-like grace he crossed the wood floor and threw himself languidly onto a chaise lounge, pushing clothes and books from its surface to crash unheeded beside it. He plucked a grape from a shining metal bowl and popped it in his mouth. His demeanour was airy and uncaring, but it felt too studied to me, as if beneath this facade he was tense as a coiled wire, ready to spring.

I pushed myself up on my elbow again, ignoring the pain. "Please, I'm thirsty." I entreated. I could feel the movement of my strange hair against my skin, making it crawl from the contact. Glowing wisps fluttered just out of my vision. He looked down, lower than my face, and I realised that not only had the blanket fallen down from my shoulders, but that I was naked beneath it. His glance made me feel that I should be blushing, but I was too stunned by all that had passed to be embarrassed. All I wanted was some milk and more sleep. I shrugged gingerly at his expression, and repeated my request.

He gave me a undefinable look, almost as if I had passed some unknown test and risen in his esteem. Grimacing with pain I tried to push myself up to a sitting position, and instantly he was up and by the bed in one of those fast darting movements of his, pushing me back down with a hand on my bare shoulder. His hand was very warm, and I sighed, allowing myself to be pushed.

Once he was satisfied I was going to stay down, he walked back to a table crowded with half finished food, and picked up the ceramic bowl, muttering in a low tone while he made certain passes with his hand over it. When he brought it over it was full of the milk, which I reached a hand up to.

"Don't," he snatched the bowl just out of reach with a grin and then held it to my lips in a mock courtly gesture, "I need you whole, and you _will_ keep pushing yourself. If you pass out again, it will irritate me."

Concealing my own irritation, I let my hand fall and allowed him to feed me. Briefly I wondered if this poppy juice/milk combination was opiate based, and his diligence in caring for me a way to tie me to him through addiction. I decided it didn't matter at this point; I needed to heal and I needed relief from pain.

When I had finished drinking he set down the empty bowl on what turned out to be an ornately carved side table next to the bed. Before I knew what was happening his hands were under the blanket, feeling my back. Now that I was well enough to realise my nakedness the touch felt intrusive as well as painful, but I was too weak to resist. And the pain of his touch was not as severe, I could bear it, just.

"Excellent!" he pronounced. "Your healing is phenomenal." His hands still encircled my back as he leaned forward, face so close that I could feel the warmth of his breath. My back tingled under his touch, and provoked a sudden desire, invalid as I was.

"Ah, you feel it too."He leaned closer, brushing his soft cheek against mine. The desire crumbled to ash as I sensed him pushing against my mind;_ I am Loki, you desire me, you love me, you will do anything for me_, the whispers went.

"Get off me!" I yelled in his ear, struggling weakly. Laughing, he leaned back, pulling me up against him so that I was sitting, leaning limply against his chest. Agony slid up and down my spine, but I felt no urge to faint.

"Even better!" he chuckled. "My glamours don't appear to work on you. This will be interesting."

My body flopped like a rag doll, but my mind was working overtime. Loki was a bored prisoner, and spiteful enough to torture me just to relieve that boredom. But in a sparkling instant, I understood that my mere presence offered him a hope, however slim, of escape. It seemed mad to disillusion him on that score, but I knew I had to be honest if I wanted his help. Logic told me that what he wanted from me was impossible, but then being here in the first place seemed impossible, so what did I have to lose from attempting it?

"Its no good," I said, "I don't know how to repeat whatever happened. And even if I could, there's no guarantee I could take you with me." My voice was slightly muffled by having my face pressed against his chest. His hands, which had been stroking my back seductively, stopped, and he uttered a laugh as soft as silk.

"And so you have divined your purpose in this little play of ours." his voice was a mere whisper in my ear. "No matter. You _will_ help me, to the best of your ability. Because if you don't," his hands dug into my writhing hair and pulled my head back so that my eyes looked into his, "your only use will be as amusement….and I tire quickly of my toys." His eyes flashed, and I winced at the malignancy of their promise.

He laid me down on the bed carefully, as if I was indeed a doll. Fear and pain left me increasingly weary. I wanted to argue with him, extract promises of his good behaviour in return for that slim chance, but I was too tired to vocalise. Instead I simply looked at him, wondering how long this unstable situation could continue before he lost patience and killed me.

Loki cocked his head to one side, and shaped his lips into a moue of mock disappointment, before reaching out and twining my hair around his fingers thoughtfully. Its glow turned his flesh ruddily translucent, and he twisted it this way and that.

"You _will_ help me...won't you?" he said finally in a petulant tone. At first I thought that this was another attempt at manipulation, but the undercurrent of desperation in his voice made me think again.

"I'm tired." I responded. "Let me sleep more." I closed my eyes. "I'll help you," I said sleepily, "what choice do I have?"

As I slipped into sleep I felt him release the strands of my hair and brush it clear of my forehead.


	3. Chapter 3

This time I was woken by a tantrum. It seemed like all hell was breaking loose, and I came awake with a snap, sitting bolt upright in the bed. The motion made me grit my teeth to stop screaming, and the blood pounding in my ears muffled the commotion. It sounded like Loki was throwing furniture, and when I opened my eyes, I saw that he was, after a fashion. A twist of his wrist and the food-laden table jumped several feet and smashed against the door, food and tableware spraying everywhere. His back was turned to me, and as he levitated a chair and sent it smashing through one bay window, I was glad I couldn't see his face. The howl of the wind was suddenly all around us, rain lashing the window seat into a sodden puddle of velvet.

Feeling overwhelmed I found myself curling into a seated ball, my hands balling the blanket into a crumpled heap. I didn't want to think about how he would behave towards me in this mood, but thankfully he still seemed too focused on destroying furniture. Another chair smashed against the wall in an explosion of splinters, and then without warning, his anger seemed to dissipate. His shoulders slumped and he pulled one of the remaining chairs towards him with a gesture. It sprang towards his hand with a screeching of wood, and he threw himself into it, head in hands.

I watched him, hardly daring to breathe.

"Lie down." His voice was muffled beneath his hands, but it was clear he knew I was awake.

Shakily I lowered myself to a supine position, marvelling at how much more range of movement I had now. Gripping the blanket just under my chin, I lay there apprehensively, waiting for him to channel that anger towards me.

A small lake was forming on the floor in front of the broken window. As it reached Loki's foot he gave an exaggerated sigh, and gestured towards it. Instantly the window was whole and the floor dry. I blinked; had the tantrum been one of illusions? Now the table and chairs were whole and in place again. Food and drink disappeared from the floor and reappeared on the table.

He straightened up in the chair and swung round to face me. I noticed that there were dark circles under his eyes and a tightness about his mouth as if he was holding back intense emotion. In spite of my fear of him, I felt my heart go out in empathy.

"What's up?" I ventured.

Loki's brows furrowed in puzzlement at my words, and then he shrugged as if throwing off a weight from his shoulders. "That is not your concern." He flashed me a golden smile which seemed completely incongruous against the emotion in his eyes. "Yet it is good news for you, for now I know that you have told me the truth; you are no emissary of Odin."

Even as I felt relieved, I wondered how he knew this. Was he still in contact with Asgard, despite his banished status? Had he been reading my mind while I slept? Realising he was still talking, I dragged my mind away from such wanderings.

"...and as your health improves, we must soon start testing your abilities." He was saying, a calculating look on his face. The feeling of empathy for him died.

"That's going to be hard when I haven't the slightest idea how to start." I countered.

"Yes, that is a problem," he admitted. "But I'm sure I can think of a suitable motivation." This time his smile was darker. I watched the golden light glint off his perfect white teeth with a sinking heart, and then admonished myself inwardly for my cowardice. He needed me, needed whatever power it was that had torn through the barriers of this sealed world. I had to find a way to use that as leverage, but all I could think about was the fact that I wanted to leave this place as much as he did. A lump rose in my throat, thinking of home, of my little apartment with my lover and my pets.

Staving off tears, I snapped, "Getting away from you is motivation enough, thanks." I closed my eyes to try and hold back those tears, biting my bottom lip to stop its trembling.

I heard Loki move towards the bed, the weight as he sat on its edge beside me. His fingers brushed the hair by my temple, and I turned my face away from it.

"So soon after we meet, and already you believe me your enemy." His voice was soft, musing.

I snorted, "Yeah, well, minor torture and major threats don't make many friends…," and then stopped, recalling that I had been lying with a broken back in the mud, battered by the storm, when he found me and brought me here. I sighed and opened my eyes, focusing on his chin so I didn't have to look at his eyes.

"I'm sorry," I said, "you did help me, and I'd probably be dead if you hadn't," _oh, but you are, you are_, whispered a snide voice inside me, "just please stop threatening me; I want to get out of here too, and I will take you with me if I can, just because…" I trailed off, embarrassed at my babbling, and looked up warily.

Loki's face was torn with different fleeting emotions ranging from anger to reevaluation to resignation. He shrugged his shoulders, managing to do even this gracefully.

"Habit, I'm afraid." his gaze intensified with curiosity. "You speak so much like a mortal, and I responded as befits a lesser race," _Thanks for that buddy_, I thought, "but whether you once were or not, now you are something else. I thank you for your promise."

The flashing smile returned, and I now recognised it as a form of armor. I also recognised that he'd managed to make another insult sound like an apology, held me to a promise I hadn't made, and deftly avoided agreeing not to threaten me anymore. I was starting to understand that this man might seem like a spoilt princely brat, but that there were many layers of subtlety and hidden depth to him. No wonder he was acknowledged as one of the more complicated trickster gods.

_He scares me_, I thought, looking into those pale eyes with the dancing fires at their center.

"Can you sit up?" He asked, changing the subject. His hands came out to feel my back, and this time I felt strong enough to slap them away, secretly relishing the look of baffled outrage which flashed across his face as I did so. Here was someone used to bending people - _especially women_, I thought, studying that pale handsome face and slim graceful frame - to his will. What had he called it - glamours? An old word, meaning something halfway between hypnotism and hallucination.

"I need clothes." I stated bluntly.

Loki shot me a tragicomic look of disappointment which vanished in a laugh. I found the lightning fast changes in his mood bewildering; in our short time interacting it was impossible to predict how he would react to even the most mundane comments.

Pushing back a lock of dark hair from his face, he motioned towards me, fingers outspread. Instantly I felt warmer, and a slight shifting of my body gave forth a subdued rustling sound. I lifted my arm, and saw that it was now covered in a wide sleeve of white silk. Only a slight trace of pain ran down my arm into my back. He was right; I was healing at an incredible rate. As I watched, white bright strands of my hair started to drift towards my out-stretched arm, flowing over it towards him. Looking more than a little alarmed, Loki stood up and backed away from me.

"What are you?" He whispered.

I shook my head dumbfounded, feeling the whisper of those strands as I did so. I'd been desperately putting off thinking about this new body I was inhabiting. They say it takes 3 months to change the body image that your mind holds within it, and mine had changed more extremely than most. A numb feeling of shock started to steal over me. My mind was mine, why wasn't my body? Where was my body? _Under the wheels of a truck_, something whispered inside me, and I reeled, clutching my head, jerking the hand away as if burnt when I felt my writhing hair beneath it.

"Control yourself!" I heard Loki yell, and snapped back to the present. He was still backed away from me, arms stretched out in front of him in a protective stance. He was looking at me in horror, and I realised that my hair was pulsing with a white glow, floating around me in defiance of gravity. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. In response, the glow faded and my hair collapsed around me in shining shanks.

"This isn't real, this isn't real." I found myself repeating this over and over, muttering as I curled into a seated ball, knees pressed to my chest. The pain in my back nagged, and I focused on it in order not to think.

After what seemed many long moments, soft movement told me Loki had gathered his courage and returned to my side. I felt his hand on my shoulder pressing down in something akin to comfort.

"This is real." He stated with a slight tone of regret. "I fear I can give you no answers," he paused as a thought struck him," yet I believe I know one who may. Free us from this prison, return me to Asgard. There dwells one who is both healer and seer, and has as yet not turned her back on me. It may be that she can divine the source of your malady." His voice trailed off, and I heard a sadness in it that moved me, in spite of my own troubles.

_Now you can keep it together_, whispered my inner self, _see, there's hope_. Resolutely, I took another deep breath and lifted my head.

"Ok, what first?" I was now determined to overcome my earlier hysterics. I looked sidelong at Loki.

"It should be mere days before you can walk," he pointed out to me, his long elegant fingers rubbing the line of his lower lip as he walked back and forth, " and we will start small, say from here to the nearest mountain." He swirled to face me, the gold embroidered hem of his dark green tunic swaying in a glittering arc with the movement. "At first you will go _alone_," he emphasized the word with a dissatisfied pursing of his lips, "it is a risk, but even abandonment is preferable to ending up melded with the mountain." Here his lips moulded into a small smirk, and he cast me a smouldering look of mischief.

"Gee, thanks," I retorted, but in truth I was happy for the distraction of this banter.

He laughed that charming laugh of his, and sweeping up a shining fruit from one table tossed it to me playfully.

The fruit turned out to be an apple, but not an ordinary looking apple. It looked more like Plato's ideal of an apple, with shining red skin like some organic ruby and sweet white flesh which tasted better than any I'd eaten before.

After I'd finished he told me to go back to sleep, and although I felt strong enough to try standing, I knew better than to push myself. More drugged milk, and back to sleep I went, wondering if anyone else had ever been in such a strange situation as I now faced.


	4. Chapter 4

It was, Loki assured me, the next day when he woke me with a rough shake to the shoulder. Truthfully, the grey of outside always seemed the same to me, and I had trouble calculating the passing of time. He seemed a trifle subdued, and was monosyllabic in his orders for me to sit up and then try standing. He held me under the elbows while I gripped his forearms to help myself upright. I was very conscious of the way he kept his face out of reach of my twining hair until a jolt of pain in my lower back made me gasp. I was so close to standing, and now I felt myself leaning on him as my knees threatened to buckle.

"Try harder." His voice was soft but there was no compassion in it today. His demeanour was as cold as it had been warm and playful the day before. A bi-polar god maybe? I mused, as I clenched my teeth and ignored the beads of pain sweat which coursed down my back. My knees shook but I used Loki's arms as support until I was standing straight for the first time since we'd met. It was then that I realised how tall he was; he was so slim that he'd seemed smaller when I was lying down than he really was. Now he towered more than a head above me, and I had to tip my head back to look at his face.

I was not encouraged by what I saw there; haughty and cold, he looked down his nose at me, and I wondered at this change of mood, as if a mask had slipped. Firmly he detached his arms from my hands and backed away slowly, leaving me tottering unsupported. I was standing by myself!

Loki beckoned imperiously. "Now walk to me."

I hesitated. I was having a hard time just standing, and the shooting pains in my back were steadily increasing with each moment. "Are you sure?" I asked doubtfully.

"Just do as I say!" He spat forcefully, so forcefully that I jumped and then staggered back, wheeling my arms to try and regain my balance.

He darted in and grabbed me by the shoulders, giving me a rough shake.

"Focus!" he demanded. "I need you to focus." He was shaking me in time with his words now, and I could feel each jangling nerve as white fire. "I _need_ to get out of here. I need…" he stopped, clamping down on the end of the sentence with his lips in a tight line, and after a long awkward moment drew in a ragged breath. I could see him trying to smooth his face into its former smirking mask, and wondered again what had set him off. His grip on my shoulders was painful, fingers digging into my flesh beneath the silk robe, but I was too scared to try and break free. I let my gaze drop in confusion and noticed with a shock that my feet were dangling inches above the floor. He had been holding me suspended without any discernable effort, and now that he had himself more under control, he lowered me to the ground and stepped back. By now my legs were pressed against the bed, which gave me some support, but I felt pretty weak and wobbly.

"Again." He ordered preemptorily, beckoning me with one crooked finger.

Swallowing shakily, I lifted one foot gingerly and took a tiny step forward, arms outstretched at my sides to keep my balance. The pain as the weight of my leg shifted was excruciating and I fell to one knee. This was starting to seem less like a test of abilities and more like torture. My hands were flat on the ground beneath me, splayed against the smooth wood. At the edge of my vision I saw Loki's boots. Incredibly, one foot was tapping in impatience.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed my hands against my knee to raise myself. When I was standing I brushed my flaming hair out of my face and didn't bother to hide my anger.

"This is bullshit!" I raged, impulsively reckless. "I need to get out of here too, but you're pushing too hard. What the fuck is up with you today, anyway?"

Snarling at my presumptuousness, Loki flung out an arm and twisted his fingers into a claw. Instantly I felt a wave of force hitting me, lifting me back off my feet. I thought I was going to hit the back wall like a broken toy indeed, but I hung suspended, feeling the force of his power crushing my bones.

"Insolence." His voice was a soft sneer, but there was a tremor behind it that sounded almost like fear. The flames wavered in his eyes and suddenly went out. His face went grey with some remembered horror, and he dropped me on the bed and turned away so I couldn't see his expression behind the wings of dark hair.

I sprawled there tensely, wondering how to get through to him. I was still wondering when he lifted his face, and the fear and horror there were sobering.

"If you got through, they will too." He said, and his voice was that of a scared young man, rather than an arrogant god. "It's only a matter of time. I was a fool not to think of it before."

"Who?" I asked. The perplexing nature of this development distracted me from pain, and I found myself crawling to the edge of the bed.

"The Chitauri." Loki gave a shaky laugh, and shook his head. "I owe them something very precious." He bit his lip and glanced out of the window, almost as if he expected them any minute.

His fear was contagious. I didn't feel like I could count on these mysterious Chitauri to be friendly towards me, and right now Loki was the only solid point of contact I had in this new reality, for better or worse.

"Alright, new plan," I said, trying not to wince at the thought of the pain I was letting myself in for, "let's skip waiting for me to heal. Carry me outside, let's do a test now. I don't need to walk to…." I stopped, searching for a word to describe something I didn't even know if I could do.

"...translocate." supplied Loki helpfully. The fear in his face was fading, to be replaced by a more haughty look again. _Ah, but now I know your secret_, I thought. Of course, it didn't hit me until afterwards that he'd manouvered me into pushing myself harder than before.

Crossing the space between us in two strides he swept me up into his arms and headed for the door. I opened my mouth to say something about the rain and then thought better of it. He was too volatile today, best to just endure it. It was a strange sensation to be carried that way, clutched against his chest while my legs swung out and my hair floated until it mixed with his dark locks. The door opened without him touching it and we crossed out into the glowering grey of this storm world.

I'd expected rain to soak me straight away, but the raindrops seemed to be hitting whatever served the god of mischief as a shield, pinging away to form a ghostly mist over our heads.

"Over there." He jerked his head to the left, almost hitting me with his chin. I followed his directions and saw dimly a wavering darkness against the grey of sky and ground. I couldn't tell how close it was, but this must be the mountain he'd talked of earlier.

Loki knelt and gently deposited me on the ground, his actions more tender than any yet today. Our hair still mingled, glowing white against black, and those pale eyes danced as he gave me one of his signature grins.

"Try not to die." he said, "You're my only hope."

He stepped back quickly and I gasped in shock as the full force of the rain hit me like a blow. I sat there gasping like a fish, legs twisted beneath me while rivulets of water drenched my dress. Strangely my alien hair stayed untouched by the downpour, streaming around me like a glowing cloud. I could see the shining figure of Loki standing watching me from a safe distance, arms crossed and legs planted as he considered me from under lowered brows, his form untouched by the rain.

I slowed the gasps to deep breaths, screwing my eyes up as I stared at the looming shape of the mountain. How the Hell to start? I looked within and found there only confusion and fear. Where was the switch which twisted me into this world? Was there even such a thing, or had my transference been mind only?

I glanced around, meaning to tell Loki that I had no clue what to do. The sight which greeted me stopped the breath in my throat. He was charging towards me faster than any mortal could, his face distorted in rage, a wicked looking knife in his hand. I saw my violent death in his implacable eyes, and didn't stop to think about the illogic of this latest mood swing.

I shrieked, and made a vain attempt to stand, but my back spasmed, and as the knife flashed before my eyes suddenly something did switch, a wrenching twist in my brain that exploded throughout my entire frame. Circles of light danced in my inner vision, obscuring the world.

Next second I was screaming into the sky, falling through all too familiar roiling clouds and flaying rain.

No! No, not again, my mind gibbered. Close in front of me the mountain loomed, a giant dark mass shooting past my falling gaze. I was falling face downwards, and the rocky ground was coming up fast. I let out a sob of pure anguish, not seeing how I was going to survive the impact this time round.

Far below a green star blazed out of the grey darkness, and I felt a beam of invisible force buffet me, slowing my fall. Sobbing fully now with relief I kept my eyes on that star as it slowly defined itself into the tiny figure of Loki running, arms stretched in my direction, a look of intense concentration on his face as his force beam pulsed in waves which carried me lower and lower towards him. I had a momentary vision of how I must look to him, an angel in flaming white falling to ground as softly as a feather. As soon as I was within reach, he grabbed me and pulled me close to his chest. It shook with his exultant laughter as he bowed his head towards mine and kissed me on the forehead.

"You did it!" He crowed, swinging me around and around.

As I recovered from my stunned amazement, I began to realise exactly how I'd been tricked, and that realisation made me struggle against his grasp. He just laughed harder and gripped tighter.

"I thought you were going to kill me!" I yelled. "What would you have done if I'd just twitched back to my own world?!"

He shrugged, his face so close that the breath of his laughter was warm on my cheeks. "It was a risk, I concede, but your mind was so focused on the mountain it seemed natural you would end up there." His brow furrowed momentarily before being chased away by an impish grin. "I did not anticipate you would appear so high up, however."

"Gah!" Outwardly I raged futilely, pinned by the circle of his arms. Inwardly I felt a warm glow of accomplishment, knowing that now I really was more useful to him alive, and stupidly flattered by his praise, faint and back-handed as it was.

Loki was still gleeful about my first success, but I felt myself overcome by extreme weariness. This day had taken its toll, and my eyes were blinking away sleep as I sighed resignedly and said, "You want to come along for the ride this time then?" All I really wanted to do was rest, but if these Chitauri were close on his heels, I'd better make an effort.

To my surprise he shook his head. "Enough for today. I wish you to be fresh when you risk my life."

"What about the Chitauri?" I stammered as he hoisted me up further and started what was to seem a very long walk from the mountain to his dwelling.

I could see the glint of mischief in his eyes as he looked down at me. "No doubt they will reach me eventually, yet I…" he paused for effect,"...may have overstated the urgency of the situation."

Slumping in his arms, I reflected on the fact that I had been well and truly manipulated into this first test. Far away I could see the tiny glow of lights from the darker shape of the hall through the slashing rain.

It seemed a long time before those lights became full-sized windows, glowing against the looming darkness of a long dark building with a peaked roof, its center beam carved in the shape of a long wingless dragon. I was barely awake, and there had been no words between us since his revelation about 'motivation'. I'd expected Loki to shift and grumble about carrying me so far, but he gave no sign that it cost him more than carrying a feather. Now as we neared the stout oaken door he flung it open with a glance, and I exhaled with relief as the warmth and light of the long room washed over me. He crossed to the large bed in a matter of strides, and as he did so I noticed something that had escaped me when I was still struggling for survival. This ornately carved bed with its high backboard and silken sheets was the only one in the room. Where had he been sleeping then? I yawned, and dismissed it from my mind. Dumped unceremoniously on that bed, I resolved to think more deeply about things in the morning, and being too tired to even put the blanket over me, I closed my eyes and threw one arm over my face to block the light. My last memory was the sound of Loki pulling his boots off in the background.


	5. Chapter 5

The scene was misty and confused with the clouded consciousness of dreaming, yet I could feel my heart pounding so hard it shook my teeth. I was sitting in my apartment on the couch. My boyfriend sat beside me weeping, my pet rabbits snuggled next to him. I reached out a hand to comfort him and it passed right through him. He didn't respond, but the act of trying to touch him sent incredible agony lancing up my arm. The room faded, and I floated in womblike darkness, curled in a foetal ball of pain. An inarticulate whisper entered my mind, and feelers of light materialised out of nothing, burrowing into my body. I screamed, and woke panting, my chest heaving.

Beside me out of my line of sight, someone muttered in their sleep, and I felt the warm bump of a body shifting next to mine. Goddamnit Loki, I hissed through clenched teeth. Still shaken by the events of my dream, I balled my hands into fists, lying there on my back staring at the ceiling.

I was dead, I must be. I had tried to push it to the back of my mind since this whole strange episode had started, but that dream seemed another piece of the puzzle, pointing the way to the recognition of my true state. I blinked, and forced myself to relax my hands. So what was this then; purgatory? And why a purgatory filled with some hallucination of a Viking god? I'd loved mythology, and been especially intrigued by the tales of Asgard, with its boisterous gods coloured by the melancholic foreknowledge of their doom through Ragnarok. But not enough to end up there in the afterlife, surely? Not to mention being stuck in some weird alien body with light tentacles for hair. Suddenly I remembered the feelers of light in my dream, and swallowed uncertainly. There was something going on here that didn't make sense, and I didn't like it.

I decided to concentrate on the present, and the elusive hope of getting out of here. Raising myself on one elbow, I rolled on my side until I was facing my unseen bedmate. Of course, it was Loki, lying there on his back with one hand resting on his chest and the other flung up beside his head, his dark hair spread in a halo around his pale face. Relaxed in sleep, that face looked younger than ever, mid-20s at most (_try 3000_, I reminded myself wryly). The mocking twist was gone from his lips and he looked preternaturally beautiful as he lay there, dark eyelashes brushing his skin. I felt an insane urge to lean over and kiss him on the lips. Instead, I sat up and, checking my movements for twinges of pain, carefully climbed over him until I was standing on the floor. It was only when I looked back, and saw the glint of his eyes under half-closed lashes that I realised with embarrassment that I had woken him up with my climbing. He put both hands behind his head and stretched like a cat before regarding me with a slight smile.

"Would it not have been easier to ask?" He mocked.

I shrugged. "I didn't want to wake you." I explained.

"Too late." He retorted, and casting off the blankets, rolled himself into a standing position before walking across the floor, picking up a haunch of roasted meat and proceeding to rip into it wolfishly.

I said nothing, just stood and watched him. I was glad that he seemed to have slept clothed in his green and gold tunic and darker green breeches, but I was still unsettled by my dream, and well, everything that had happened. I can't trust him, I thought unhappily.

Acknowledging my dark looks with a raised eyebrow, Loki threw the bone from his meal across the room. I gasped and almost laughed with pure wonder as it transformed into an owl and flew hooting around the room before falling to the floor, a ragged bone once more. A lone brown barred feather fluttered down after it and disappeared in a shimmer of mist.

I smiled at him, a sad smile that I knew didn't warm my eyes.

"Am I dead?" I blurted out, the beginning of tears stinging.

I expected him to come out with one of those laughs of his, but instead he pursed his lips and gave me a sidelong look.

"I know that I live, and so you must also. However..." Loki paused, as if searching for the right words, "...it may be that your mortal body does not." There was rare pity in his eyes as he said this.

I slumped on the bed, staring at the floor. I wanted to howl and cry, but now that it was out in the open, the tears caught in my throat. If my body was dead, was there even any point in me getting out of this place? Where could I go? I tried to picture my boyfriend or even my family welcoming me back in this form, and failed miserably.

"Do not give up hope." I looked up to see a most solemn expression on his face. It showed the lie in his boyish visage, for the solemnity could only have come from someone older than I, much older.

I shrugged. What else could I do? Caught between despair and determination, I made that same decision I have made ever since, to keep going with purpose.

Loki tossed a hunk of bread in my lap, pulled his boots on and stood up.

"Follow me." He ordered.

I nodded dully. Why not? Setting him free from this place was as good a purpose as any other. I had no illusions about settling down in Asgard once we were free; even supposing the Aesir welcomed him with open arms (a scenario I thought highly doubtful), I was inured to the fact that I would be out of place there, or anywhere.

I'd expected him to carry me again, although my back was now healed enough that the twinges of pain were intermittent and barely noticeable. Instead he conjured soft ankle boots for my feet and then leaned forward and took my hand, quite gently.

"Come." He said. I nodded once more and leaving the bread uneaten, followed him out of the long room into the howling storm. It didn't hurt that much to walk anymore, and it took me a few moments to remember how messed up I'd been even a day earlier.

Again I stood staring, straining to see that darker shape of the mountain against the darkness of the elements. This time he stood beside me, shielding me from the rain, our hands linked. I looked down at them, noticing how long his fingers were, and how his palm completely enveloped mine.

"Do you think this is enough?" I asked, shaking our hands for emphasis.

"Hmmm, maybe not." He moved closer and wrapped his arms around me. At any other time I would've been both embarrassed and aroused, but at that point I was too busy being locked in anxiety.

I'd been worried that I wouldn't be able to find that switch again without the sensation of panic fear, but this time when I turned my focus inwards, it was right in front of me, a swirling light that leapt to the fore when I closed my eyes. Trying to keep my blurred image of the mountain in the midst of that light, I reached for that inner switch.

And immediately was falling out of the sky again, Loki's grip pinching tight as he yelled in my ear. It took me a few precious moments to realise what was going on, because my head and heart were pounding madly, as if I'd just tried to lift a piano on my back. By the time I had worked it out, a dark slope dotted with white was looming up fast. Before I had time to even think about twitching out of there, we'd hit the ground at an angle and were tobogganing down a steep incline with a nasty looking drop at the end of it. I stared stupidly at it until Loki shook me and screamed something inaudible in my ear. Of course, he was taking the brunt of this, his green cloak flying in tatters around us.

I took a breath and with a flash of light we were elsewhere, but not in a much better state. Falling through air again, the mountain was farther off and we were spinning so that I couldn't get my bearings. All at once the dark smudge of the ground filled my view and we were sliding along it at a tremendous rate, throwing up dust and scree in a high wake behind us. It seemed like forever before we came to a halt.

Once we did, I lay there half-stunned while billowing clouds of dust drifted away from us to blend with the ever-present rain. I expected Loki to be badly hurt, and I wasn't feeling that great myself. The sensation of having expended tremendous effort made it hard to even raise my head from his chest, and I was shaking with weariness. But I hadn't reckoned with either the toughness or recuperative powers of someone who styled themselves as a god; while I was still breathing in ragged gasps he started to chuckle and then dissolved into outright howls of laughter. Feeling like I'd missed the joke I used my hands on his chest to push myself up on my elbows and looked into his face quizzically.

Seeing my confused expression, he wiped his brow and gulped between chuckles, "Altitude adjustment needs work!" before pushing me off and sitting up. I sat there twisted in the trench of our making while he dusted himself off and smoothed his tattered cloak into wholeness once again. He stood up and reached a hand down to me.

"Again."

I shook my head. "Its really hard work carrying you when I twitch," somehow I'd chosen this as my own personal word for what I did, "I'm pretty wiped."

Loki frowned and grabbed my arm, hauling me roughly to my feet. "You will translocate us back, _now_." He emphasised the final word and then smiled, a smile so charming that it was like sun breaking through clouds. "You have done well today, but I need to know that I'm not going to arrive in Asgard in the middle of a wall."

Sighing reluctantly, I looked around to see if I could see the hall that served as home. It was nowhere in sight. Panicking a little, I closed my eyes and tried to build an image in my mind of the location as I remembered it. A misty wavering view started to come together, and then was shattered as I felt Loki put both arms about my waist.

"Don't distract me." I muttered absently, and tried to piece the image of the hall back together. We don't often realise how our internal images are fragmented and viewed from multiple perspectives in our heads, but now I had to create a solid viewpoint that would serve as a point for us to arrive. Finally I had it, an image of the front door seen from about 20 feet away. Feeling that this was as good as it was going to get, I reached for that dancing light behind my eyes, and felt a sickening twist.

I felt like screaming with frustration as the sensation of falling started again. But as my eyes flicked open, I only had time to notice that the ground was very close this time before we hit it dead on, Loki's body cushioning the impact for me. Bone tired now, I looked up groggily to see the hall still about a city block away. It would have to do; I didn't even have the strength to raise myself onto my elbows, and my brain felt leaden and confused. He must've sensed this because he manouvered us quite gently until he was standing carrying me in his arms. My head flopped against him and I felt as if each beat of my heart would send me into unconsciousness. I don't even remember him carrying me back to the hall.


	6. Chapter 6

Thankfully I slept without dreaming. I woke with a tingling feeling of anticipation; if things went well, today would be the day I left this place for good. Wriggling my fingers and toes to wake up I turned my head to see if I would have to climb over Loki again. To my surprise, he was awake and watching me, leaning on one elbow. From this angle where he looked down at me, his face was shadowed by dark hair, only his eyes gleaming. The mocking twist to his lips was caught between tenderness and contempt.

"Hi." I ventured softly, with a tentative half-smile. Fear and sexual tension warred within me. In answer to my emotions, the filament strands of my hair started to waver, tickling my forehead. I brushed it away impatiently. He smiled at this, and reached out a hand languidly to assist me, his wrist so close to my face that I could smell the faint scent of him. His fingers brushed my hairline, and as he leaned forward I looked deep into those half-lidded eyes and saw the glaze of lust cover them. Panic struck me and I put up my arm between us, my hand gripping his shoulder.

"What?" he whispered, "I won't hurt you."

I gulped, and shook my head. "Its not that," I tried to explain, and failed miserably,"...I just don't think it's a good idea…" inspiration came to me,"...I mean, this body isn't even human."

Loki chuckled and pried my hand gently away with caressing fingers. I felt my pulse increase.

"Neither is mine." He said tauntingly.

I couldn't explain it to him because I didn't fully understand myself; I was certainly attracted to him, and loyalty to a boyfriend who would probably recoil from me as I looked now seemed naive. Sure, he scared me, and he was moody as hell, but that sort of thing had never stopped me before. It was a sense of self-preservation held me back, the feeling that he would find it even easier to manipulate me if we were intimate.

Loki guided my fingers to the hollow of his neck and then brushed at my hair again. Distractedly I could feel it waving gently, and as I watched, it started to twine around this hand and wrist. There was the faintest flicker of alarm deep in the flames of his pale eyes, but he hid it well. I took a deep breath and concentrated on having flat limp dead hair. It worked better than I'd imagined, and he gave a short laugh as the shining strands collapsed around us.

"No, not human at all." he smiled as he traced the line of my jaw with his thumb lightly. "Maybe it's I who should be worried." His fingers brushed my lips, and I didn't resist as he leaned forward and kissed me. There was a momentary coolness to his mouth, a sense of kissing a marble statue, and then the warmth and pliability of a fellow being. My whole body responded. Physically it was very hard to stop, but that sense of self-preservation was screaming at me.

I jerked away and sitting up, started to scramble off the bed. He caught me by the wrist, and as I swung round towards him, I saw an expression of bafflement. I put my hand on his forearm and bit my lip, shaking my head.

"Sorry, but I'm just not up for it; things are too weird as it is." I hated my voice for having a beseeching tone. "You're super hot," here he did allow himself a smirk, and the grip on my wrist loosened, "but it would be too intense, and I can't cope with more intensity right now." I grimaced, talking to a Norse God of mischief in the tone of post-Modernist psychobabble seemed ludicrous, but it was as close to honesty as I could get.

There was regret in his face as he released my wrist and allowed me to stand up, but thankfully, and a little surprisingly, no resentment or wounded pride. I backed away to the table and picked up a random piece of fruit, averting my eyes when he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was naked beneath the silken sheet, and that didn't leave much to the imagination.

This is stupid, I thought, and forcing myself to overcome my embarrassment, sat down next to him on the bed. At least he'd left my dress on, I told myself, smiling inwardly. I passed him the fruit without looking at it.

"You are a sensitive soul, wherever you hail from." Loki commented, biting into the fruit, which turned out to be a peach. Watching him eat it was in and of itself a sensuous experience. I clung to his free arm and pressed my face against it wordlessly. Why did emotions have to be so complicated? As a means of refuge, I cast my mind around until the events of the coming day came up.

"Loki?" I asked, aware that for the first time I'd called him by his name. Somehow this seemed to me to be an acceptance of my situation, that he was telling the truth about who he was, about this strange magical reality.

He hurled the peach pit away from him, licked his fingers and caressed my neck. "What now, sweetling?"

I ignored the term of endearment, "How am I supposed to take you to Asgard when I don't know what it looks like?" the feeling that I had been missing something important overwhelmed me. "How?"

He stroked the hollow of my neck absently, his eyes dancing. "I am a master illusionist; I'm sure that a simple mirage is not beyond my powers."

I nodded, shivering slightly at the warmth of his hand on my skin. "And once we get there?" I pressed.

Loki shrugged and cupping my chin, forced me to look into his eyes. "You are free to go, I swear this." The intensity of his expression convinced me, and I gave him an uncertain smile.

"Ok, let's do it then." I released his arm and stood up, gathering my strength to me in a deep breath.

Slowly he stood up, his clothes flowing into being over him as he did. Over his green tunic he now wore green and gold armor. He grinned down at me, and motioned me towards the door. Grinning back I followed his direction and cast only a cursory glance around the hall which had served as my hospital and his prison.

Outside the rain beat down, and the lamplight above the door didn't pierce far into the gloom.

"Well, I won't miss this." Loki observed with satisfaction. His force shield protected us from the downpour, and I stood beside him hugging myself with both arms as he made gestures into the darkness in front of us, murmuring in an unknown language as he did so.

As I watched, whirling motes of light resolved themselves into a shining image. The scale was small, but the colours were brilliant and the overall effect incredibly realistic, so that it was almost like opening a window between the dimensions. Almost, but not quite, I reminded myself, that's what he needs you for. A small glowing flying vessel the size of a bee zipped through the blue sky of the mountainous scene and I found myself looking upon a domed and arched building large enough to elicit a gasp even viewed on this scale. It seemed almost as tall as the surrounding mountains, a gleaming peak strewn with lights and balconies, dabbling its skirts in a clear blue lake. From a large entrance arched a bridge which looked like a frozen glowing rainbow, spanning the countryside and disappearing into the mists beyond.

Loki waited for me to drink the scene in, and then pointed at a balcony about halfway up. Instantly the image zoomed in on that area, and I saw the balcony in more detail. It was finely wrought and filigreed stone, with sparkling fountains and lush green verges.

"Make for here." he commanded, and favored me with a sly half-smile. "Try not to come in too high."

His comment made me remember my translocating shortcomings, and I gulped nervously. Loki's smile widened and he pulled me close with an arm around my shoulder. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll take us close enough."

Breathing deeply I concentrated on the image and its details; the way the blue of the sky reflected off the gleaming fortress, the gentle wavering of the ornamental trees on the balcony, the soft daylight glow of the lamps. Once I felt I had it fixed in my mind, I gripped Loki's arm around my waist and closed my eyes. The switch inside swam there bright and ready, but as I felt the twitch in my brain, agony exploded in my head, and there was a sensation as if my brain was being pressed into an infinitesimal point.

This was not like our jaunt across a stretch of wilderness; and the blackness was heavy on me as I felt my body falling through space. It was hard to open my eyes, and once I did I was forced to blink and squint at the sudden brightness, the intensity of sun and blue sky. My head was pounding and I was as limp as a wet noodle in Loki's arms as he yelled and flailed out of my sight range with one arm. The brightness was dazzling, but I could see we were high above those sparkling waters and green meadows. Loki cursed and flailed again. Suddenly we were being jerked towards a looming reflective surface and there was a screeching sound of tortured metal. Dazed I tried to get my bearings; my vision was limited as I was pressed against the metal surface, sliding down it at a tremendous rate. A dark hole flanked by wisps of gauzy material appeared under my feet and I was swung onto a flagged stone floor, the brightness dimmed by walls. We rolled over and over until Loki hit a panel of solid wood and I collapsed beside him.

Panting for breath I closed my eyes again and let my head sink to the cool stone. If translocating Loki yesterday had felt like lifting a piano, today had felt like having that piano pressed onto my brain and chest by a giant hand. He grabbed my hand and tried to help me to my feet, but I couldn't make it farther than my knees, and he ended up kneeling with me as I leant on him for support.

"I don't feel so good…" I mumbled, too weak to put the proper irony into it that the remark deserved.

There was tension in his voice as he tried to encourage me to stand. "We need to keep moving." He said, and I experienced a sense of dread and betrayal. Why hadn't I really thought about what would happen once we got here? It was obvious now that he hadn't expected a warm welcome, and I wondered what his ulterior goal was after all. Fighting deadening fatigue I raised my head to look around me.

We seemed to be in someone's living quarters, opulent and yet rustic. My main impression was of stone and wood and flowing fabrics, done in the same architectural style of Loki's prison hall.

Clinging to his arm for support I managed to bring myself to a shaky standing position.

"Where?" I asked, knowing as I did so that his promise of letting me go my own way was at the very least delayed.

"We can't go like this," he frowned and waved a hand over us. His image flowed like wax and was replaced by the figure of a much beefier man dressed in golden armor. It was a craggy Scandinavian face, all jutting cheekbones and lank blonde hair with blue ice-chips for eyes. The strange face smiled. "That's better; there are so many guards here, two more won't be noticed."

I looked down at myself and bit my lip to keep from gasping. I'd hardly gotten used to the slim pale alien body I'd been wearing for the past while, and now it was gone. I too wore golden armor, and my hands were square and mannish.

"Hold on a minute, where are we going?" I asked again, feeling the pace of events was spiralling into a pattern which I had no control over. At least I felt energy coming back to me, and my back straightened as I prepared for whatever would come next.

Loki's sly smile was disconcerting on that dull, serious face. "I have but to reclaim what is mine, and then I will ask nothing more of you." He propelled me out of the room with subtle pressure on my arm. We were in a long curving corridor of polished stone lit by floating spheres of light. Doors along the way gleamed like precious gems, and interspersed along the way were large braziers flaming with scented woods. I tried not to look at him out of the corner of my eye because it felt like a stranger was creeping up on me. He seemed to be leading me ever downwards, through a maze of corridors and stairs. We passed other guards dressed in the same golden armor and less often someone in more courtly dress, but the emptiness was striking.

"Where is everyone?" I whispered, afraid of the echoes of my voice. Guard-Loki rolled his eyes at me dramatically and sniggered.

"Asgard has always been the home of the elite. If I'd known you wanted crowds I would've given you an image of Valhalla. Ah, we're getting close."

The stone of the corridors was now green shot with veins of white, and the floating orbs glowed with a colder, bluer light. We had come to the end of a corridor, and in front of us was a large door which oozed shadows. The air seemed colder, and there was a sense of menace in the frosty air.

He placed one hand on the door, and stood there silent and unmoving for a long moment. Slowly the door creaked and began to shift inwards. Blue light spilled out from behind it. Swiftly Loki stepped inside and I followed him. The door closed behind us, and as it did, our forms wavered and shimmered until we were both standing there in our true being on a broad high step, the gold of Loki's clothing cold-tinted in the light. My hair was floating high around my head, almost as if it felt the power within the room as a physical presence. Steps led down to a long narrow room. At the far end of it was the source of the blue light, a cube set into a high pedestal, a column of bare stone.

"The Tesseract." Loki breathed reverently, and then shook his head as if to rid himself of awe. He darted down the steps, beckoning me to follow him. Feeling more and more apprehensive I padded slowly down the steps after him, wondering what I'd gotten myself into. Was this why Loki had been banished?

I grabbed at his cloak and pulled him to a halt. "I won't be part of stealing from gods." I said firmly. Loki sighed, and rolled his eyes. "Not stealing, taking back what was stolen from me." he emphasised, and then his look turned sour as he saw my set face. "Very well, go then. I don't need you to escape from here, at least." I knew he was deliberately manipulating my emotions, but it didn't stop the pang of guilt and fear I felt at the thought of leaving him. Not to mention the fact that I didn't really have the slightest idea where to go next. I tightened my grip on his cloak, wavering between a moral standpoint and an instinctive feeling of needing the companionship of the only person I knew in my bleak new life.

Seeing my indecision Loki drew me closer with an arm around my shoulders. "I need to take this to the Chitauri," he explained, "and then I'll be free of them." He beamed a melting smile in my direction. "Free of them, free of the Aesir, just...free."

He had been guiding me towards the glowing blue cube as he talked, and now we stopped in front of it. Transferring his hold from my shoulder to my waist, with his free hand he grasped the cube. Blue light flooded through his fingers and beams of it started to arc as he freed it from the column of stone. Laughing triumphantly, he lifted it above his head, both of us staring up at it as we were bathed in that cold radiating light.

"LOKI!" A voice boomed out behind us, reverberating throughout the room as if it would shake the walls apart.

I turned to look over Loki's shoulder and had a confused impression of the doorway filled with figures before something fast and red hit us. The impact knocked the breath out of me, and I felt myself and Loki hurled off our feet against the wall. His hand gripped my waist like iron as he smashed against the wall, and before I knew it, through it. The blue sky dazzle was in my eyes again, and I screamed as I saw the hole in the wall of the gleaming fortress recede from us. We weren't merely falling, we were still being propelled at supersonic speed through the air. Above us the sky darkened and a massive bolt of lightning crackled out of nowhere, splitting the air around us with the sound of thunder. Caught in Loki's arms I could just see the flying blonde hair of the figure who had punched us through that wall. Panicking I screamed again, and reached for my inner switch.


	7. Chapter 7

I was drowning in blackness, struggling to break the surface. Wind whistled past me, and there was the confused yelling of multiple voices.

"Can't wait to show me some brotherly love, can you Thor?" It was Loki's voice, dripping with brittle sarcasm. I had never heard such conflict in it, hate warring with reluctant love.

Something buffeted us heavily, and I felt Loki's grip loosed from my waist. My eyes snapped open in time to see a burly red cloaked blonde man propelling Loki away from me as I dropped, assaulting him with blows to the face as he did so. I snatched desperately for the edge of his cloak, but it was already beyond reach. I fell down past them, a receding point in the sky around me.

As I fell, I realised that we were now in a city, a proper Earth-style city with skyscrapers. The sky was hazier than Asgard, and I could hear the noise of bustling humanity and automobiles floating up to me. Focusing myself on the distant point of Loki and Thor, i prepared for another jump, but before I could, something else slammed into me.

"Beautiful day, isn't it, miss." drawled an American voice, masculine and amused. I blinked, trying to take in the shape of the figure now propelling me through the air. A metal man in crimson and gold, his face a blank mask with a slit for a mouth.

"Let go of me!" i yelled, not thinking of the immediate consequences if he did so. I struggled, trying to free myself. Unable to do so, i glanced around, attempting to get a fix on Loki again.

The metal man swung us in a fast arc, and i could see he was aiming at the same target I wanted.

"I know Thor," the metal man said conversationally, "and I know his psychotic little brother," i squirmed at this description of Loki, "but," he continued, "I don't know you, and you don't look like you really belong here, if you see what I'm saying."

That really set me off; I felt closer to my own world than i had since those truck wheels had filled my vision, and here was some metal American pointing out my freakishness. "I'm not doing anything wrong!" I spat. "Leave us alone!"

If a blank metal face could've raised an eyebrow, this one would've. "Us, huh. Look, you seem like a nice...girl...alien...thing," metal man coughed awkwardly, "but you should know you're playing for the wrong team. Probably zapped you with that spear, right? You're confused, not sure what's going on..."

I shook my head, noticing that we were closing fast on the rolling fighting clump that was Loki and Thor. Somehow I had to get free of metal man, or I would be stuck translocating 3 people besides myself, and I didn't think i could do that without my head exploding. Desperately I brought down both fists on my captor's metal head, but i only succeeded in bruising my knuckles.

Now we were flying alongside the other two. The man called Thor was raining blows on Loki's head but amazingly he was virtually laughing them off. As my metal friend veered closer I reached out, grabbed Loki's fluttering green cloak and took a deep breath.

"Don't do it!" it was Loki's voice yelling at me. i looked up at him and saw that in spite of Thor's hands around his throat, his attention was on me.

"I don't have a choice!" I screamed back through the wind.

"Silence, both of you!" roared Thor, shaking Loki so that his teeth rattled.

The arc of our travel was nearing the roof of the nearest high-rise, and abruptly Thor dropped out of the sky towards it, hauling Loki after him. Smoothly the jet powered metal man swerved to follow him, depositing me lightly on the ground as the roof crunched under the impact of his feet.

Across from us Thor had Loki pinned against the wall of the roof maintenance room. He was in mid yell, punctuating his speech by tapping Loki's chest hard with his short-handled hammer. The red cloak billowed around them both, sparking with electricity.

"...and you have the temerity to come back and try to steal it again?!" Thor was booming, his blue eyes flashing. Close to each other, the difference between the brothers was night and day...brothers? Surely that wasn't Norse mythological canon? Dimly I recalled stories of Loki being Odin's blood brother, but in this reality it seemed to be different. I swept the thought away, focusing on an opportunity to dart in, grab Loki and translocate.

"Mind filling me in, Thor old buddy?" Metal man touched his blank face and a portion of it slid away, revealing a very human looking man with tanned features, dark hair and dark eyes that looked out on the world shrewdly.

Thor stopped and swung round dramatically, gripping Loki by the throat again. Damn, physical contact meant he would be coming with us. But at least we could lose metal man.

"Hail Iron Man." the statuesque god greeted my metal friend, "As you can see, Loki has made an attempt at escape," he glanced at me consideringly, "aided by this one. He has also attempted to retake the Tesseract." here he couldn't resist giving Loki a shake. Loki shot me a look of long-suffering. I glared back. He had involved me in what looked like a serious crime. By rights I should leave him to his brother's mercy and take off before these two heroes figured out exactly how I'd helped him. But somehow I couldn't. I thought of his desperation in his prison, and his only partially faked fear of the Chitauri. I felt that he was constrained by motives which were a sign of that desperation rather than malicious evil. More fool I.

"He has to!" I burst out. Thor frowned, and I stumbled on quickly. "The Chitauri will kill him if he doesn't! You have to help him."

Iron Man gave a sardonic laugh. "Not likely. Last time this guy was at the head of a Chitauri army, wreaking havoc on New York. I don't know what sob story he fed you, but I'm going to make sure he and the Tesseract go right back to their cells."

I bit my lip and stared at Loki, hot tears in my eyes. Everything Iron Man said was true, and yet something inside me felt this awful kinship with the pale eyed man hanging from Thor's grasp, his dark hair dusty from his brother's violence. I remembered the strange mixture of tenderness and cruelty in the way Loki had treated me, and the emotional confusion his mood changes covered. No mythological tale of his evil deeds had ever remarked on how complicated he was...how human. It seemed the rankest betrayal to tamely allow him to be recaptured, even though I knew he had been less than honest with me.

"I don't care!" I cried finally, and darted inside the billowing curve of Thor's cloak. I threw myself at Loki, wrapping my arms around his neck, Thor's burly arm beneath me. I heard Iron Man's confused yell behind us and closed my eyes tight. I seemed to be making a new habit out of blind twitching, for i had no image in my mind again as I reached for that inner tripwire, sending us tumbling into another time and place.

Thor's roaring drowned out my and Loki's shriller shrieks. That twitch had hurt, and as we fell through the sky I felt as if I had been physically stretched and reassembled at the quantum level. My heart was leaping in my throat and my boneless arms fell away from Loki's neck. Almost at once I hit springy grass and rolled over to watch the long churned trail that he and Thor made as they skimmed along the ground to their own impact.

I lay there gasping for breath, my face pressed against the crushed grass blades. Blue light illuminated them in a ghostly glow, and I saw that Loki had let the Tesseract fall fortuitously close to me. I slowed my breathing and was about to reach for it when I heard a strange honking sound, and the ground started to shake. Raising my pounding head I saw a herd of large animals stampeding towards me, away from the direction that Thor and Loki had been sliding. I gasped in wonder as the animals came closer; they weren't just large, they were huge, with green grey leathery skins and long necks and tails. Dinosaurs? I was about to be crushed to death under a stampede of dinosaurs? The urgency of my situation sunk in as they ran closer, shaking the ground violently beneath me. They were the ones honking, booming cries that filled the air. I curled into a ball and reached out for the Tesseract, meaning to take it and translocate away to relative safety.

As soon as my fingers touched the blue cube a jolt of energy slammed through me and instantly every alien hair on my head was snaking towards it, piercing it. I felt energy surging up through the strands into my body and the shock of it shattered my perception. Dimly I saw the dinosaurs breaking on either side of me like a wave, veering away from me as I pulsed with blue light, a glowing energy medusa, but they were faint and insubstantial. Stars showed through the green grass and muddy sky. Only I and the Tesseract were real. I screamed silently with my head thrown back as I felt flooded with its energy. The sensation was overwhelming and I wanted desperately to lose consciousness, but couldn't. Even the stars were fading now, leaving me and the cube as a glowing point in infinite darkness. On the edge of that darkness I saw the blurred suggestion of glowing filaments reaching in. A figure flashed before me and was gone again, a confused impression of a hooded face with burning coals for eyes. I writhed in agony, and then suddenly it was all gone, and reality sprang back into focus.

I blinked with confusion. I was kneeling on the ground, staring at my empty hands. They were dead white, paler even than before. The skin had a bluish blush to it and a translucency almost like half-melted snow. I felt drained and limp but someone was holding me upright. Dazed, I shook my head and looked up into Loki's face. He was holding me by the shoulders, and his face was pale and trembling. He looked deep into my eyes and then glanced away, over to where Thor stood apart, holding the cube warily. Its blue glow was faint and washed out.

I sighed deeply and used Loki's arms to help me to standing. I couldn't understand why they weren't fighting each other anymore.

"I had a vision." I said, clutching Loki. It seemed important to tell him.

Thor snorted derisively. "That was no vision, we both saw it."

I frowned. "Saw what? What did you see? Did the see the tentacles?"

Loki and Thor exchanged an anxious and meaningful look.

"No, we saw you...your hair...feeding on the cube." Loki explained cautiously as I leaned back into the support of his body.

I closed my eyes as I felt a wave of nausea roll over me, and shook my head.

"No, I was used," I countered, "something is using me." I clutched a handful of my hair and gasped as I felt the charge from it.

"Like a conduit." Thor was looking at me darkly. His attention turned to Loki and his frown deepened. "Who or what is this creature? What deep game are you playing, brother?"

"Only the one she told you of," retorted Loki with a flash of anger, " taking the Tesseract to the Chitauri in exchange for my continued existence."

"Please," I shook his arm angrily, "I don't think the Chitauri should have access to this. Noone should. Its awful!"

Loki shook his arm free and glared at me. "I thought you were going to help me!" he shouted petulantly.

"I want to, but there's got to be another way!" I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, staggering as I stood there. In spite of his pout, Loki reached out a hand to steady me.

"There is no other way," he said softly through gritted teeth, "the Other who controls the Chitauri will make sure of that."

Thor had been watching our conversation silently, and now he shook his head. "I cannot allow this. Loki, come back with me. I will help you explain to Father..."

"He's not my father!" Loki hissed. Thor's face told me that this was a recurrent issue between them. He held up a finger in a 'stop' gesture.

"...and it may be that he will devise some solution." he finished.

Loki snorted, "Yes, the same solution as always! Fling me in a cell and throw away the key!"

Thor threw up his hands in disgust; he and Loki bristled at each other, but neither made any move. In the faint distance I could hear the honking of the herd dinosaurs. For the first time I realised how hot and moist the air was.

I wiped sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand, and felt an electrical tingle where my skin touched my hair. What had happened there? Great power had flowed through me, but it hadn't stayed. I shuddered, remembering the creeping filaments and the hooded figure. This reminded me of something Loki had said before.

"The Other," I stammered, "is he hooded?"

Loki gave me a sidelong look. "Maybe. Why?" Wariness showed in the way his hand gripped my arm tighter.

I tried to gather my thoughts; why did my intuition tell me that Loki's Chitauri Other and the hooded vision were the same? How could such knowledge be used in our situation?

"I think he knows I've touched the Tesseract." I began slowly, and then stopped. Horrible thoughts about my role in this entire matter were starting to filter through.

"It doesn't matter!" Thor broke in impatiently. "The Tesseract is safe in Asgard. Take us back there now." he pointed his hammer at me commandingly.

Now it was my turn to shake my head, at which Loki laughed softly. "I think we may be beyond even Heimdall's sight here, brother." he taunted.

Thor started a swing of his hammer, an exasperated expression on his face, and then stopped, and carefully placed the Tesseract inside the breast of his tunic. He walked closer, until he was towering above me, and took my free arm gingerly but firmly. I had the impression he was deliberately restraining his strength in order to handle me.

"I will not hurt you, but you must take us back to Asgard." He commanded solemnly.

"And if I don't?" I said unhappily. Meanwhile Loki had reached out and grabbed Thor's wrist above the hand which held my arm.

"Let go of her." He said quietly, menace in his tone. Thor looked at him and blinked, seemingly surprised by Loki's action.

Once again Thor turned to me and said, "Take us back or I'll fly both of you the long way, even if it takes a thousand years."

Loki snickered. "More like millions; didn't you notice the giant lizards?"

"Shut up Loki." answered Thor wearily. "Now do as I say woman, or you will rue this day." He frowned, but at Loki, not me, I noticed. He was obviously used to his brother being at the root of most dilemmas.

"This Tesseract." I countered. "I think there's a connection between me and it," I glanced at Loki apologetically, "I might be some kind of plant - a manchurian candidate so to speak." He and Thor gave me blank, confused looks. "Maybe someone _did_ send me, just not Odin." I pressed, referring to my and Loki's first ever conversation.

I cringed inwardly as Loki's eyes narrowed and he breathed, "I knew it!"

"I didn't know until I touched the Tesseract! Please believe me, I didn't know!" I begged, suddenly terrified.

"I don't understand." Thor was frowning again.

Loki sighed mockingly and rolled his eyes. "Of course you don't." he waved away his brother's angry gesture. "It seems that I have been the one manipulated here," his eyes flashed as he glanced back at me, "yet it may be that I can turn that to our mutual advantage."

"Enough!" Thor exploded, his hand tightening painfully on my wrist. "Take us back now!"

"Softly, softly, brother!" entreated Loki, gently prying Thor's fingers open and pulling me back out of reach. I rubbed my bruised arm sullenly, and had the pleasure of seeing Thor's face crumple into guilt and embarrassment as he saw what I was doing.

Loki manouvered me behind him and held up his hands to his brother. "Thor, dear brother, what if I told you that I have a plan which could solve all our problems?"


	8. Chapter 8

It took Loki some time to convince Thor of his plan, and I pretty much stayed out of it, only answering Thor's questions about how I'd ended up on Loki's prison planet, and what it had been like when I'd touched the Tesseract. The sun was low in the gritty sky, and the dinosaurs had all trooped off for the night when everything was agreed. We stood in a small semi-circle in the middle of the meadow, crowded around the blue light of the Tesseract as Thor held it out in his open palm.

"Loki, will this work?" He asked. His voice was low with trepidation, but still held some of that same booming quality, larger than life.

"How should I know until we try?" replied Loki testily. It had been interesting, watching him interact with Thor. It was very different from the suave, condescending way he behaved towards me, although the quick-change moodiness stayed the same. They treated each other with spiky cautiousness, but it was the tiptoeing of people who knew each other far too well.

Tentatively Loki placed his hand over Thor's, covering the blue cube.

I gulped, feeling overwhelmed by a sense of going to my own doom, and then grabbed Thor and Loki's wrists with each hand. Loki had conjured an image of the Chitauri world earlier, and I strove to keep it fresh in my mind; it's dark skies strewn with stars and ringed planets while a multitude of Chitauri burrowed through the pumice rock below. With this image before my inner vision I threw the mind switch which sent us plummeting through time and space.

This translocation wasn't like the others. I hung suspended in a void between one moment and the next, Thor and Loki frozen beside me. The Tesseract's blue glow illuminated us but nothing else at first. Slowly the glow grew into a shining web of many strands, crossing and recrossing. Through shimmering circles I beheld a thousand worlds transposed on top of each other. My suspension was broken by a tugging feeling, my being pulled in a certain direction. I closed my eyes and opened them again, but it made no difference. And then suddenly the frozen feeling was gone and one world rushed up at us through the webbed void, faster than the eye could process.

I blinked again, and found myself kneeling in shining black dust while strange moons wheeled overhead. Thor knelt beside me, coughing violently as he stared around him. The rocks around us were filigree, full of holes, and from those holes poured a swarm of man-shaped creatures. They were about a football field's length away, but closing fast.

I looked around for Loki and saw him some way off, running up a flight of obsidian stairs which seemed to lead to nowhere. Near the broken top stood a figure which made my breath catch in my throat, a hooded figure.

"See, I keep my word! I've brought it, brought you the Tesseract!" Loki was shouting as he bounded up those steps, green cloak floating behind him. He held up the glowing blue cube, and the light which reflected in the glowing eyes of the hooded figure didn't illuminate its features. It held out its shrivelled hand, and I heard Thor gasp as Loki reached out and deposited the precious object in it.

"Am I not worthy?" Loki asked breathlessly. His words fell on a sudden silence, as if all present waited for the answer to his question. Beside me I heard Thor tensing in anticipation.

From the depths of the figure's cowl came a terrible cackling laughter, mocking and contemptuous. So malevolent was it that Loki took a step backwards, teetering on the steep stairs.

"Worthy?!" the voice was deeper than Thor's and yet reedy and quavering. As I and Thor watched in horror, the hooded figure lifted an arm and blue light sprang from the palm, a sizzling beam which caught Loki full in the chest. He gave a single cry and fell backwards, tumbling down the steps.

"No!" I screamed, and heard Thor roar in anguish. A sudden blast of wind told me the thunder god had taken flight, and a moment later I saw the red sail of his cloak as he barrelled towards the hooded figure. Focusing on Loki lying prone at the bottom of the stairs, I twitched without thinking, and instantly was kneeling next to him.

"Are you ok, are you ok? Please, tell me that was part of the plan?" I babbled, leaning in close to him. From this angle I could see the blackened circular rent in his chest. It looked horribly real, and my worst fears were confirmed as Loki laughed weakly and then stopped, wincing in pain.

"Not quite the reception I anticipated." he joked, taking my hand in his. His pale face had a shiny yellow cast, and was beaded with sweat.

"This is an illusion, isn't it?" I demanded anxiously. Coughing, Loki shook his head. My heart filled with dread as I saw dark blood peppering his lips.

"I..didn't have...time." He was struggling to speak now and I had to bend even closer to hear his whisper. Around me the tumult of battle raged; Thor was breaking heads hopefully.

Icy tears sprang to my eyes; my emotions regarding Loki were complicated to say the least, but I didn't want him to die. His eyes were closed now, and the rise and fall of his chest was visibly less. I switched my attention back to the wound in his chest, and saw a surprising thing. The glowing filaments of my hair, hair which i firmly believed to be traitorous and ensorcelled, were waving slowly over the burned flesh and bone. Pulsing light travelled down each strand, passing into his ruined body. At each pulse he shivered and drew in a shuddering breath. I didn't know whether to brush the tendrils away or encourage them. I decided to let them continue and glanced up to see if Thor was close to winning.

He wasn't, being instead locked in a whirling battle with the energy beams the hooded figure was throwing hither and thither. The Chitauri had me and Loki encircled and were beginning to overcome their caution, drawing closer and closer, weapons in hand.

"Thor! We are leaving!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. I knew that Loki's only chance now was to get him back to Asgard. The blonde god swerved out of the way of another blue blast and doubled back towards us.

"Hang on Loki, just hang on a bit longer." I urged, clasping his hand firmly. Behind me I heard movement. I was hoping that it was Thor but a rough hand plunged into my hair and dragged my head back towards the sky. Yelling in pain I found myself staring up into the distorted face of a Chitauri holding a rough-forged dagger. As I cried out this image was knocked violently aside, dragging me sideways. The hand on my hair relaxed, and I felt Thor's massive arms surrounding me.

"Go now!" the god of thunder boomed in my ear, and making sure I had a good grip on Loki, I reached inside and switched that golden lever in my mind with all my might.

Instead of a suspended void there was chaos, a whirling whining maelstrom of glowing strands. I concentrated fiercely on the image of Asgard that Loki had shown me when we were escaping from his prison world, that ornate balcony with its filigree balustrade and gently waving shrubberies. There was a noise as if my ears were popping, and we were there. I had no time to congratulate myself on translocating at ground level again for the sight of Loki lying limp on the stone flags filled all my attention.

"Loki!" I had opened my mouth to say it, but Thor's shout stopped me, filled as it was with unendurable grief. I leaned protectively over the prone god of mischief, allowing the glowing tendrils of my alien hair to seek out his wound again. I could only pray that they were healing rather than draining him.

A shadow dimmed the Asgardian sun, and Thor was kneeling beside me, blonde locks dishevelled as he reached out a hand towards his brother. It was touching to see how gently he laid that hand on Loki's arm, in spite of his constant aura of barely restrained strength.

"Does he live?" He asked, the barest tremor in his voice.

I glanced down at Loki; he was immobile but his chest rose and fell rhythmically. Still alive then, I thought. The filaments of my hair pulsed to the same rhythm, knitting the ruined flesh to wholeness. Weakness overcame me, and I drooped down until I lay next to him, staring up at the sky. I felt my life force draining out of me in waves, the ultimate sacrifice for another, and not altogether a willing one.

Above me loomed the shadowed figure of Thor, a look of confusion on his honest face. He touched my face with his fingertips and I could see him looking from me to Loki and back again.

Blinding light exploded around me and I heard the incongruous sound of hooves striking the stone. A sharp point pricked my shoulder and I was pushed to one side, way from Loki.

"No!" I protested weakly, unable to rise. I tried to crawl towards him, but a diamond shaped golden spearhead pressed against my chest. I blinked, attempting to see my assailant, but the light was too bright. I sank back, feeling the bitterness of defeat.

"Take them hence." The booming quality of the voice reminded me of Thor, but was laden with a gravitas he lacked. Hands lifted me, and I had no energy to resist them. I closed my eyes against the brightness, and heard a faint cawing, as of many crows.


End file.
